Breath of Life
by AccioNicole
Summary: Set during the Deathly Hallows! James and Lily Potter - along with many others - return from the dead to help fight in the last year of war.
1. Awakening

It was a pleasure to die.

The striking onslaught of sudden death only lasted a second; the fear and distress lasting even shorter. After that, it was quick and easy, like falling asleep. Everything ceases to exist until you are left with nothing between you and death. There is no physical pain or discomfort, no anxiety or distress – there is nothing. It is just you and your last breath of life.

And then it's all gone. Your last breath has been cut short and you are nothing more than anything. The last string that attached you to the earth has been strung. There is no more pain and no more sorrow, no more terror and no more fear, for how can there be something like that when there is nothing at all?

There was only peace and oblivion – sweet, wonderful oblivion. The war that you spent the last five years of your life fighting – the sadness, the grief, the pain turns to relief, for it is all disappeared as well.

It was a pleasure.

From then on, no one is sure what happens. The life after death is still a mystery. And yet, you wonder – how could I know such aspects of death if I live? How could I know the relief and pleasure, yet sorrow and pain it brings?

It is because I, James Potter, have died.

And I, James Potter, have returned.


	2. Magic is Might

**Hey there everyone! I'm really surprised I received four reviews on something that was less than three hundred words, but thank you, nonetheless! Also to those who favorite my story/author, and alerted. It meant a lot. I have a few things I want to point out before you begin reading to clear some confusion. The man who will appear shortly is Pius Thicknesse, head of the Auror department. Yaxely places an Imperious charm on him, something we learn in the first chapter of DH, and I would like to clarify that in this chapter, when he runs into James, he's already been Imperiused, which is why….well, you'll see. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Thank yoU!**

It took a while for the blackness to go away. Even just the tiniest bit of it would result in a relapse, making sure my heavy eyes lids closed once again, despite how hard I tried to open them. But once it was gone, leaving my mind sharp and clear at last, my body began to function.

My eyes opened. My head lifted from the spot on the floor. My fingers itched towards my wand. My feet began to rise.

The first thing I saw was a man. He was tall and skinny yet solid. He wore nothing more than a black pair of robes accompanied by the usual shoes on his feet and mop of unruly black hair that rested on his head. His face was covered in soot and dirt, just like the rest of his body, making it appear that he had rolled around in a mound of grime. His clothes were torn slightly and he was bleeding from his forehead and his arm.

I gripped my wand tighter in my hand, confused and slightly startled at the disgruntled man before me. He mimicked my action, making me tense, as did the man, and I raised my wand, as did the man, and I fired a spell, as did the man – but the man before me shattered into a million pieces of glass and –

I was looking into a mirror.

I gasped and looked down at myself. That man was me. Or rather, I was the man. I was the man with the ugly looking robe and the bleeding forehead and the –

"Bloody hell," I murmured, my heart suddenly racing a million miles per minute. I tighten my fingers on the wooden stick as something moved in the corner of my eye. Aiming my wand in front of me and whipping around, I felt another jolt: I was looking at myself again.

My head swiveled around in confusion before I came to the realization that the room I stood in was one of mirrors. I spun on the spot, watching as a million other men with unruly black hair and battle wounds did the same, panicked and terrified and confused –

"_Lily, it's him-"_

That voice: I knew that voice. It seemed to bounce off the mirrors themselves as it sounded through the entire room. And yet, I could still hear the direction it was coming through. Without a second thought, I raced through the endless number of mirrors for the source.

"_-take Harry and go-"_

Gasping for breath, I stopped short, turning directions for that was where it was coming from now. My robe caught on the end of one but it was too late to slow down: the mirror fell to the ground with a shatter.

"_-I'll hold him off-"_

The voice…it was me. As I neared the source of the sound – a doorway - the voice disintegrated, leaving me gasping for breath. That was me. That was my voice, my words, right before I was killed.

Fate must not have been so cruel, because not only was my body functioning now, but my mind. I am James Potter. I am twenty years of age. I live in Godrics Hallow. My wife's name is Lily Potter. My son's name is Harry Potter. We are in hiding. Peter is our secret keeper. He betrayed us. Voldemort killed me.

He killed my family.

That's where my mind stopped, coming to a stand-still. My eyes slowly racked the area of the door, wondering what it meant and why the voice – my voice –guided me to it. I turned my head back over my shoulder, watching as a million other James Potter's did the same, before turning back to the door.

My bloody fingers wrapped around the doorknob. With a final deep breath, I wrenched the door open before me, preparing for anything.

Except for the light. I stumbled back slightly and threw my hands over my eyes. A few seconds passed before I lowered them, adjusting to the burst of light that was nothing more than a few lamps placed around a circular room.

Watching out for any signs of people, my feet carried me slowly in the room. It wasn't until I reached the center did the door behind me snap shut, startling me into whipping around and raising my wand.

The doors began to shift before my eyes, making the lights distinguish slightly and blur to little yellow lines flying around my head. After a second they came to a stop, seemingly have done nothing but shifted in position. I took a few steps forward, reaching for the door before me and entering.

Except instead of mirrors meeting my gaze, I saw rows and rows of orbs placed on rows and rows of shelves. Something in the back of my mind shifted before I realized I knew this room. Of course I knew this room.

My son was prophesized. His very own fate could be found somewhere, compacted amongst the thousands of others, which were un-doubtfully minuscule compared to his. My fingers, as if they had a mind of their own, reached out and grabbed the nearest orb to my left. My gaze had not even landed on the name of the prophesied before the orb began to burn the flesh from my hand.

With a hiss, I let it drop to the floor and shatter. A bit of smoke emitted from the ground in a form of a women and it began to spin, speaking in a foreign voice I neither knew nor recognized.

"Who's there?" hissed a voice. I looked up, wand raised, as a man with long black hair and beard streaked with silver came into view. He had a rather large forehead with glinting eyes that studied me carefully, before widening in excitement. "Well, well, well….if it isn't Harry Potter."

I didn't say anything, confused. Was this man referring to my son, or another Harry Potter? It seemed unlikely to be discussing another Harry Potter whilst in the Hall of Prophecies.

The man stepped forward. "As head of the Auror department, I advise that you follow me quickly. There are some people who are expecting you -,"

"You're not head of the Auror department," I said, cutting him off. "Duplitch is. And if not him, then Longbottom is next-,"

The man laughed and shook his head. "My, my Harry. Have you hit your head?" His eyes glinted in a way that made my Auror instincts scream mistrust. He reached a hand for me. "Come, my boy. We have people to see-,"

His hand was uncomfortably close. In a tick, my wand was aimed at his chest and shooting out a jet of yellow light. His eyes grew wide but he stepped aside just in time.

"A shrinking hex?" he asked me, sneering. He pulled out his own wand. "Where did you learn such magic, Potter?"

I didn't answer, but simply turned on my heels and raced for the door. It seemed unlikely he would follow me – or so I thought – but I was quickly proved wrong. A jet of red light hit a prophecy right next to me: why was he trying to stun me? Who did he think I was?

I threw another stunner back at him, running into the circular room. "No!" he roared as the door slammed shut.

Years of Auror training and being at the Ministry rushed back to me as I asked, "Where's the exit?"

The door to my left opened up and I raced through. There were people everywhere, Ministry workers and wizards alike. Many heads swiveled in my direction and it took me a moment to remember my appearance. Not trying to attract attention, I simply plummeted behind a statue and waited.

And waited. And waited. It seemed the man was unwilling to chase me, or rather didn't want to get caught chasing me. I felt my tense muscles relax as I realized I wasn't in immediate danger.

I ran a hand through my hair, watching the commotion in front of me but not truly seeing it. My mind was a million miles away trying to answer so many questions and put together what was happening.

Except the only thing I could think of was Lily and Harry. Where were they now? Were they – do I dare ask it – alive? But no, of course they had to be. If I was alive they surely had to be, even if I didn't understand how. I wouldn't except any other possibility.

My eyes fell wide as they landed on the man from a moment ago, who had nearly tried to stun me. His head was roaming the entire hall of people before him: a few times he stopped to talk to someone quickly. They'd shake their head and he'd be gone.

He approached a tall, dark haired man whom I recognized vaguely: and then it hit me. He had been a few years older than me and my mates at Hogwarts: Kingsley Shackebolt.

He, like everyone else, looked away from whomever they were talking to shake their head at the man. The man didn't so much as look disappointed as he nodded, turning away, bound and determined. I shifted myself slightly, keeping the pole between myself and the man as he continued his way. From where I was standing, I could catch some of Kingsley's resumed conversation.

"Did he-?" asked a man with sandy brown hair who's back was to me.

"He did," answered Kingsley, in his deep voice I knew from Hogwarts. He lowered his voice and drew closer to the man, his eyes fearful. "Why would he be looking for Harry?"

The man shook his head. "They want to help with transporting him to the Burrow safely, don't they?" he asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question. "Maybe they assumed he'd take up the offer and come to the Ministry."

Kingsley opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short. I soon learned why. His eyes caught mine and went round. "I have another theory, actually."

The man followed his eyes but did not spot me. "And what is that?"

Kingsley didn't tear his gaze from my own – did he recognize me? From Hogwarts? "That somehow Harry did manage to get to the Ministry…" he began, much to the confusion of the man. "Potter, show yourself."

I swallowed. Unlike earlier, my auror instincts didn't scream 'run' at the sight of him like they had with the earlier man. A second later, I stepped out from behind the statue.

"My name isn't Harry Potter," I felt the need to clarify after a moment of silence. "But I am the person that…that man is looking for," I said, because I trust Kingsley. He's a Gryffindor, after all, and never gave me a reason to not like him.

The man followed Kinglsey gaze at the sound of my voice. But this wasn't just a man, just as I wasn't Harry Potter.

That was Remus Lupin.


End file.
